This Little Heist of Mine
by QuickSilverFox3
Summary: Aftermath of a job well done, where Billy drives, Red texts and Vasquez attempts not to die. Written for FandomWeekly Challenge 019 - Sterotypes [Modern AU, Everybody Lives Nobody Dies AU]


"I will be honest," Vasquez called, knuckles turning white as he braced himself in the back of the van, "I did not think that would work!"

Billy glanced in the rear-view mirror, before frowning and throwing the heavy-set glasses over his shoulder, ignoring the yelp from Vasquez, as the van skidded around another corner on two wheels.

"My dead grandmother could drive better," Red said, feet propped up on the dashboard, inspecting the glittering rings on his fingers, necklace already fastened around his neck.  
"She is welcome to try," Billy said, rolling his eyes at the man who ignored it, "Why are you still wearing that outfit?"

"I'm going to burn it," Red said, plucking at the patterned waistcoat in disgust, "It's awful that this plan worked."  
"People don't see us," Vasquez said, staggering forwards to attach himself to the back of the seats, eyes wild, "They see stereotypes, we just played it up a bit."  
"You just enjoyed pretending not to speak English for a bit," Billy said, carefully merging onto the main road, beginning to relax at the absence of red and blue lights in his rear view mirror.

"It's fun, you can't deny that. That little con you ran with Goodnight kicked off this whole thing," Vasquez laughed, accepting the diamond earring from Red and clasping it onto his own ear.

"A classic," Billy announced, flashing a rude hand gesture at a sports car flying past them, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel before leaning over to fiddle with the radio.

"You make a very convincing accountant," Red said, "and Vasquez a good waiter."  
"I am an excellent waiter!" Vasquez complained, feeling safe enough to relax his death grip on the headrest to retrieve his cigarettes, relinquishing the first lit one to Billy's incessantly snapping fingers.

"Fifty million dollars' worth of diamonds stolen all because white people can't tell us apart from others," Red sighed, snapping a quick selfie, Vasquez posing as Billy focused on the road, casting his eyes skyward at their antics.

"Works in our favour sometimes," Billy said quietly, tapping the ashes of the cigarette out of the driver's side window and waving a hand at Vasquez for another.

"Sam says we look very pretty," Red reported, fingers flying over the phone as he jumped between text groups.

Billy frowned, catching Vasquez's eye in the mirror, looking equally as puzzled.

"Specifically, he said, 'Looks good, get back soon before Goodnight works himself into a frenzy'," Red said with finger quotes and an eyeroll, "But I know what he means."

"Eyes on the road, eyes on the road," Vasquez yelled, slapping the back of Billy's seat as the man immediately leaned over to scrutinise Red's phone at the mere mention of Goodnight's name.  
"So dramatic. I am a very safe driver," Billy scoffed, but obliged, turning his face back towards the road and corrected the slowly drifting van back onto the correct lane on the almost empty road.

"What would they do without us?" Red laughed, thumbs flying over the keyboard, "Faraday would be stuck swindling tourists and drinking himself into the gutter. Horne would still be in the hills somewhere, preparing for the Rapture, Goodnight wouldn't be handling himself well at all," Billy grunted in agreement as everyone had been present for the very loud argument that concluded with Goodnight and Sam agreeing to go to a therapist, "I'd still be on the reservation with my tribe. Billy, you know you would be in prison. Vasquez in the cell next to you. Sam would be like Goodnight but less well off."

"We are going to have so much money," Vasquez said, comprehension dawning on him, twisting the earring to create patterns flashing across the dark inside of the back of the van.  
"We are going to have so much money for everything," Red said with a laugh, half turning in his seat to add to the patterns with the rings on his fingers, "I think I'll buy some new archery equipment. Those got expensive once all the students got it in their heads to try it."  
"You are a student," Billy chuckled.  
"It's my heritage," Red countered, waving one bejewelled hand dismissively, "How about you Billy? Bet I can guess-"  
"Knives," all three said in unison.

Billy flipped the giggling two off, grinning quietly to himself as Red took the opportunity to slip some of the diamonds onto his raised finger.

They tensed, previous light-hearted attitude gone as red and blue flashing lights appeared in their rear view mirror.  
"Brace yourself Vasquez," Billy chuckled, smile like a shark, leather gloves creaking as he flexed his fingers on the steering wheel seconds before he slammed his foot down on the gas, van shooting forwards and off into the sunset.


End file.
